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Jun 2015 · 264
Far Be It From Me
Nick Kasparie Jun 2015
Far be it from me
In the shadow of lions,
A poor little mouse,
In a house meant for giants
To squeak out a sound
Just a little too loud
And be just for once
A little bit proud.

Far be it from me
In the home of the rich,
A poorly dressed man
With a hand for the stitch
To ask for a penny,
Just one they could spare,
But maybe I shouldn’t;
I ought not to dare.
Jun 2015 · 233
At Midnight
Nick Kasparie Jun 2015
At midnight I’m poultry
As white as the sheets
And the pillows that match,
I’ve no courage beneath
These feathers I’ve sprouted
At a single soft touch,
And her movements have made me
Start thinking too much.
Are these fingers or feathers
That trace her soft skin?
Am I human or bird,
And when’d this begin?
As she took me inside,
Or the time I first called?
Was it when I realized
That she was enthralled?
Perhaps if I hadn’t
Began with my games
I wouldn’t have had
**** luck with these dames.
It’s one thing to play
A game with no rules;
It’s another one to
Play the game as blind fools.
Jun 2015 · 225
This Thing I Call Love
Nick Kasparie Jun 2015
Had we a heart for the love we had shared
God could have been kind and just left us a pair
But maybe our senses got into the way;
It had to be darkness that shadowed our days.
What truly is love but a sense of its own,
With no ***** to claim but a skill to be honed?
Is it thought, is it heat that will soon dissipate?
Is it a function of time, is it tangent to hate?
As I sit, does it stand, am I strictly opposed
To this thing I call love that I’ve now juxtaposed
To a satanic vice, to the absence of God?
Am I now nothing more than a pitiless fraud,
Who claims to be worldly and knows so much more
Than the man on the street and the ungodly *****,
Who see life in its rawness and laugh at the child,
Who lives in a bubble and makes fierce what is mild?
What the babe doesn’t know is that he never can,
For to live is to know, and to love: to be Man.
So he who’s not lived may learn suddenly
The fury of flesh and what love should be.
Jun 2015 · 310
At the House on the Hill
Nick Kasparie Jun 2015
At the house on the hill where the evergreens grew,
By the lake where we fished while our love was still new,
We had talked; we had walked to the end of the roads
We had pride in our stride and made high all our lows

At the house on the hill where the evergreens grew,
On the swing where we laughed, it was then when I knew
That our talks and our walks were much more than a game
And quite soon, if I could, I would give you my name

At the house on the hill where the evergreens grew,
In the dark of the night when the stars shined for you,
With no care in the world, we made love in the grass
With a passionate heat no one else could surpass

At the house on the hill where the evergreens grew,
Where we laid in the grass from the frost ‘til the dew
I had seen all to come, but I was not aware
That I could have been wrong, and I truly despaired

At the house on the hill where the evergreens grew,
In the door where we kissed and I said “bye” to you,
In my sorrow I stood, and I knew you were gone
From the house on the hill where I waited so long.

At the house on the hill where the evergreens grew,
The trees all stayed green like my love did for you.
Jun 2015 · 291
Sonnet 1
Nick Kasparie Jun 2015
A man of thoughts thought I myself to be
Until you came and shattered my belief
A plentitude have I to learn and see
A multitude of lessons and so brief

Is life on Earth that I cannot contain
My curiosities or nosiness
They drive a passion unable to feign
And all for want of you, I must confess

I doubt you are unwitting of this fact
No need to be reserved, you know it’s true
Endowed with many gifts that don’t detract
From beauty I can’t help but see in you

And so this means I must request of thee
The help from you to make a better me

— The End —